


Hot Chocolate and Clouds

by crOwnlEssG



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Apocalypse, Brothers, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Here For You, Sequel, Whump, crownlessg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crOwnlEssG/pseuds/crOwnlEssG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag to 5X22 "Swan Song" - Sometimes, it's the angel who needs someone to watch over him, whether that someone is a friend or a brother. Sequel to I'm Here For You, but can be a stand-alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Were I a cloud I'd gather_

_My skirts up in the air, and fly well know whither,_

_And rest I well know where._

_~Robert Seymour Bridges_

* * *

Castiel focused the monotonous scenes of the night pass by, trying to keep his mind from drifting and his vision from blurring.

Like everything else, he was failing that as well.

Capturing demons and draining them of their blood had been exhausting work, especially since he, Dean, Sam and Bobby had went at that for half the week with virtually to none periods of respite. Almost immediately after they had gathered enough blood, they set out on the road straight for Detroit, where Lucifer was waiting.

Castiel was so tired he had no idea where they presently were or how long they had been traveling. The silence inside the Impala that he knew was supposed to be tense was actually turning out to be an invitation for him to sleep, and the smooth flow asphalt and dark surroundings were beginning to lull him.

He snapped his head up and sat a little straighter. No, he cannot let himself fall asleep; they had a task to do and he did not want to be any more pathetic than he already was. He may have lost his powers and he may not know how to effectively fight as a mortal, but he could at least stay awake for the duration of the car ride. What if there was something near the road that posed as a threat and the Winchesters did not notice it in time? What if the Winchesters decided to change the plan slightly and he was not there to voice out his opinion? What if they think that him falling asleep would only further assert his weakness?

Turning his head, Castiel stared at the seemingly endless stretch road ahead of them. Wherever they were, they obviously still had a very long way to go. Bobby had taken his truck to another route in order to not draw suspicion from any demons who might be lurking around and acting like sentinels; Castiel did not know where he was right now either, and this obliviousness to something as simple as location was truly, mockingly eating away at him.

Thanks to the recent rain it must be cold outside, he figured, but the Impala offered a comforting warmth that reminded him of better days, days when he had felt safe and certain and he knew that he rightfully belonged somewhere. And the leather underneath him felt soft, almost acting like a balm to his aching body.

Castiel felt his eyes flicker shut and he strenuously pulled them open again. He kept them trained on the road ahead even though everything was smudging at the edges of his vision. For a time, he believed he could make it throughout the trip, in spite of the fact that the seconds seemed to slow down. He thought he could show the Winchesters that, after all he had been through, he can still push past the limits of the human body and prove that there was still indeed a speck of angel left in him. He was sure that he can convince himself that he could still be of use, notwithstanding the fact that he felt his mind numbing from the outside-in, as if a foreign entity was seeping into it.

His eyelids flickered again.

The road melted away into nothing.

His awareness soon followed after.

O_x

"Aww, ain't he a little angel?" Dean commented when he noticed the faint snores coming from the back.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_There can be no rainbow without a cloud and a storm._

_~ J. H. Vincent_

* * *

After a couple of hours of driving, Dean found himself at a gas station that had miraculously sprung up in the middle of nowhere.

It was good to take a break, and for once he was thankful that his baby was running low on fuel. Getting off the road for a bit was like finding an island in the center of an ocean that was about as gentle as the inside of a blender. He could breathe here for a while, and maybe even pretend that he did not have to disembark again for what may be the most screwed plan in the whole freaking history of screwed up plans.

Sam had gone out to take a walk. It was one of those contemplation-moments crap before taking that crazy dive off the edge, but Dean knew it was more like a prisoner's last look at freedom before the bars come crashing down and the keys were thrown away. He had decided to give him some time alone, because if there was any time to give his brother whatever he asked for, now would be pretty much it. They had already been through their 'talks' and, really, there was nothing else left to say that had not been already said.

He called Bobby and let him know that they were just at a quick pit stop and that they would hit the road again soon enough. Bobby merely grunted at them to hurry up and be careful, to which Dean returned with a "When haven't we?" that lacked his usual humor.

The gas station was unusually peaceful, but not in a creepy or suspicious sort of way. It was most likely because they were so cut off from any cities and any big suburbs, so less panicking people and falling buildings and all that. And it might have also helped that they only ones here, save for the lone guy – probably the owner or something – who was left in charge of watching over the place. This gas station seemed like it was one of the insanely few, remaining places that was yet to be affected by the Apocalypse, and for that, Dean was thankful.

As he waited for the tank to fill up, he suddenly remembered that he had not checked up on Cas yet, not since a few hours ago. There was a fleeting thought of him fluttering off again without so much as a warning, but then Dean remembered that the guy's wings were basically clipped.

And Dean was aware that that was his fault.

Cas was still conked out, although at the angle his neck was bent Dean was sure that he would wake up with a killer crick. Poor guy looked exhausted as hell, not to mention as vulnerable as the rest of them. Still, as much as he needed the rest (and he seriously did), should Cas somehow have to fight when they reach Detroit or even along the way, a stiff neck would really, _really_ be a huge disadvantage, and it was not like Cas had a lot going for him these days.

Besides, Cas could be hungry or might be wanting to take a leak for all he knew. They seemed like stupid things to think about compared to what they had to do in a few hours' time, but Dean figured he might as well make their final moments a little more comfortable.

Dean was about to open the door and wake Cas up when he noticed that he was slightly shivering, despite the fact that all of the windows and doors were closed. His body must still be adjusting to the drastic change of turning human, and that probably meant that his immune system was kind of acting haywire. It was either that or Cas was suffering from the aftermath of their encounter with Pestilence, which just reaffirmed the first option now that Dean thought about it.

Heaving a sigh, Dean walked over to the trunk to see if there were any blankets that had managed to survive this long. As it turned out, there _was_ a blanket, and a thick one at that, except that it was being used to prevent the jugs of demon blood from knocking into one another and spilling their contents. Needless to say that the sight of the jugs filled to the brim made him sick, and if they had not been crucial to the plan, he would be hurling every one of them down the nearest manhole. Regardless, it did not change the fact that there was not any blanket available, so he had to make do with something else.

Closing the trunk, it was then Dean realized that there was a tiny convenience store tucked away beside the garage, in all its modest, faulty lighting glory. He thought it was worth a shot; maybe they got something useful in there, and pie since he had skipped out on eating a while ago. There was a sign that said that it would be closing any minute right now, so if he had to do something he better hurry up.

After taking care of the gas and sparing a glance at Sam - who was nothing but a thumb-sized shadow just standing a few meters away and staring at the open field ahead - and Cas, Dean jogged his way toward the store. The closer he got, the weirder doing this felt; lives were being lost everywhere, the world was being tossed around like it was in a salad, his brother would be shoving the Devil into his cake hole soon and here he was running to a convenience store to get something that would keep someone warm, which he was doing partly because of guilt.

Yeah, this was definitely the time of the Apocalypse.

The store was actually smaller on the inside, and the heating in the place did not really work that well. There was a girl sitting behind the counter and playing with a video game that she was severely bored with, judging by the expression on her face. She sent him a little wave of acknowledgement upon his entrance, and that was about it. Dean returned the gesture even though he doubted she saw it before going through the aisles.

First aisle: Loaves of bread, boxes of cookies and those instant-pancake packets. No pie. Nothing warm.

Second aisle: Bags of chips and candy. No pie. Nothing warm.

Third aisle: Bottles of water, soda cans and juice boxes. No pie. Nothing warm.

Fourth aisle: Tooth brushes, tooth paste and rolls of toilet paper. No pie. Nothing warm.

Fifth aisle: Nothing warm, but hello, last-in-stock mini-pie!

Dean snatched the remaining container and made a mad dash to the counter, in spite of being fully aware that he was the only customer here. This would be his last meal before things take a tumble for hell, so he may as well enjoy this moment before he would get back on the driver's seat and feel the full weight of reality on his shoulders again. Pie, of all things, was really stupid to think about right now, he knew that. He knew the taste would be bittersweet on his mouth but he will take what he can, since in a few hours he was going to lose everything.

Making his way to the counter, he only then noticed that there was a huge sign propped up by the door, advertising a large, single serving of hot chocolate.

It was no blanket but he figured that that would have to do for Cas.

Dean produced his wallet from his back pocket to scrounge around for some cash, and thankfully there was still a bill left. Although, when he added the price of the pie with that of the hot chocolate, he came to the conclusion that he merely had enough to buy one item.

Damn it.

He could always take off without paying; it was not like he had not done it before. However, he figured that the world had enough scumbags as it was, and he sure as hell was not here to make it any worse, even if it was only to one person. Stupid freaking conscience. Now he had to chose between his own comfort ( _and_ hunger) and something as seemingly trivial as preventing Cas from catching a cold or whatever.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked once he approached the counter.

Dean placed what remained of his money on the surface. "Yeah. One hot chocolate please."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

 

_"There's nothing better than a good friend, except a good friend with chocolate."_

_~ Linda Grayson_

* * *

Dean reached the Impala the moment the convenience store closed.

Sam was still not back, but he would not worry about it. When he peered into the back of the car, he saw that Cas had yet to wake up, although now he could see that the guy's face was kind of scrunched in discomfort, not to mention that the shivering had become slightly more noticeable.

With practiced ease, Dean quietly opened the door and ducked his head in. Cas still looked a little paler than usual, and it was just another reminder of how much exactly he had given up. For a moment, Dean was having second thoughts and did not want to shatter the closest thing to peace Cas had ever attained since things really went down the drain. Right now, he was not in a coma or – God help him – dead; he was just sleeping.

Dean sighed and carefully shook him on the shoulder anyway.

"Hey, Cas. Dude, wake up, I got you something here." Dean said quietly.

Maybe it was the fact that he had not paid attention before, or the fact that Cas had basically turned into a human, but as of this moment, the reality of just how slender and small the frame under Dean's hand was got a curse out of him. This was not right, this was not right on so many levels. This was supposed to be the same guy who yanked him out of the Pit?

Cas must be really freaking tired since Dean had been at it for almost a minute and he still was not showing any signs of rousing. If they were not facing the end of the world, Dean would have gladly taken this opportunity for some good blackmailing material, even though Cas did not seem like the person who would freak out if a picture of him sleeping with God knew what all over his face was shown to a buttload of people.

Dean made a second attempt in waking him up, putting a tad more force into his hand. This time, it got a reaction from Cas, though the reaction he was expecting did not involve the guy moaning and inching away from him. Dean was suddenly reminded of the times of his childhood when he had to drag a really sleepy Sam out of bed after a long and hard hunt the previous night – the kid could be as stubborn as a pissed off mule when he wanted to be, and it would take the whole morning kicking him out of bed.

Blessedly, Cas was not Sam as a kid, so Dean did not need to shove him to the ground with a broom. If he thought that Cas displayed kid-like characteristics a few seconds ago, this time he honestly looked like one when he made a soft sound at the back of his throat and rubbed at his eyes slowly. The more ruffled state his normally crisp clothes were in merely amplified the suggestion that he had just rolled out of bed.

Cas winced when he got his neck to straighten up, and the pain seemed to jolt his senses back into place since he immediately pulled his hand away from his face and discontinued the all-too-human gesture. His eyes sluggishly peeled open, the cloudiness of sleep leaving after a second or so.

"Dean?" His voice was rougher than usual. He blinked and started to massage the side of his neck. "Did I fall asleep?"

Dean chose to ignore how lost he sounded. "Yeah, you kinda did." he said.

Cas closed his eyes for a moment in what had to be a grimace, and he struggled to open them again afterward. "How long?" he asked.

"Couple of hours, but hey, it's not like you've missed anything."

Dean placed himself onto what available space there was next to Cas and sat down. He was reminded that Cas was still shivering when his shoulder made contact with his arm; Dean removed the lid of the hot chocolate and finally offered the cup to him.

"Here. It'll help." said Dean.

After a moment passed, Cas finally nodded his thanks and took the cup into his slightly trembling hands. "Hot chocolate," he observed, and Dean did not miss that his tone implied that he was still half-asleep. There was silence for a while of doing nothing before Cas spoke up again. "There's no marshmallows."

Okay, it was official: an angel of the Lord was acting like he was seven years old. If this was not proof of the Apocalypse, Dean did not know what was.

"Uhh, no, sorry. They kinda ran out of the stuff." said Dean a bit awkwardly. "Gee, Cas, I never pegged you with a sweet tooth. Ain't that a little more up Gabriel's alley?" Dean let out a chuckle. "Guess you two really are related, huh?"

Cas did not say anything, not that Dean expected him to, but a retort or a bemused head-tilt would have been nice. Instead, Cas just stared into the depths of the hot chocolate and ran a finger up and down the cup, as if lost in thought.

"What? No marshmallows not good enough for you?" Dean joked, trying to lighten the mood and push the inevitable war out of his head.

When Cas still had his gaze eerily locked on the steaming brown liquid like the secret of the universe (or a teddy bear, if he kept up his little kid act) would be popping out at any second, call him crazy but Dean figured that there was something bugging the guy.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean asked.

He thought that he would get the usual, load-of-bull "I'm fine" response again. Hell, he would have taken anything - even a direct punch to the face - right now if that meant Cas would snap out of this weird funk he was in. Then, after what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, Cas finally tore himself away from the hot chocolate in his hands and set his bleary eyes on Dean.

"I believe my fever might be returning." Cas admitted dreamily, as if he was not even aware that he making words come out of his mouth.

Perplexed, Dean felt himself frowning at how blunt (well, _more_ blunt) Cas was being right now. Nonetheless, the statement about the fever added to his growing worry about the guy. He placed a hand at Cas' forehead and let out a low whistle when he registered the heat emanating there. The temperature was not alarming, but it was enough to make him resurrect his mother-hen mode.

"Yup, definitely a fever right there, buddy." Dean said. Then, he remembered how Cas had put it earlier. "Wait, 'returning'? As in you had this before?" He paused. "Was this from Pestilence? If it is, I am so summoning that son of a bitch right here so I can ram a lawn mower - "

"Dean," Cas cut in, who was looking and sounding more awake all of a sudden. "This isn't caused by Pestilence."

"You sure?" Dean inquired.

"Yes."

Dean sighed and leaned back into his seat, dropping the subject for now. At the corner of his eye, he watched as Cas took his first sips out of the cup. Dean could tell that the hot chocolate was kicking in when the shivers went away almost immediately; he was not even sure if Cas realized that he had been shivering. In fact, the second Cas pulled the cup away from him he looked like he was about ready to fall asleep again, and it made Dean wonder,

"Cas, when's the last time you've slept?" Because he had not seen him even take so much as a five-minute nap the past week. Dean assumed that he just had not gotten the chance to see Cas resting what with all the neck-deep crap they had to do before setting out, but now he was starting to get suspicious.

"Three, perhaps four days ago." Cas replied.

Dean's eyes widened. " _Four days_? Man, no wonder you're like this! You're human now, and humans need sleep! At least four hours! Haven't I taught you anything?" he exclaimed.

"I have spent the majority of my stay in the hospital sleeping. I thought that would have compensated for - "

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong." Dean interrupted. He ran a hand over his face and forced himself to calm down. "Damn it, Cas; it doesn't work like that." he said tiredly.

The expression Cas pulled resembled that of a scolded kid who did not know any better. "I'm sorry." he said quietly.

Before Dean could stop himself, the words were already leaving his throat. "Don't be. If there's anyone who should be sorry, it's me."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_On hot chocolate: "It flatters you for a while, it warms you for an instant; then all of a sudden, it kindles a mortal fever in you."_

_~ Marie, Marquise de Sévigné_

* * *

Cas tilted his head at him. "What for?" he asked.

Dean pushed himself out of the suddenly way-too-cramped car and started pacing outside. Seriously though? Was Cas really this clueless or was he merely faking it just to get him to actually say it all out loud? Then again, end of the world - might as well get everything out while he still could. And yeah, Cas really did deserve to hear the whole shebang, after all the mountain of crap that fell on them, Cas most of all.

After he wore himself out on pacing, Dean stopped and faced Cas. "I'm sorry for everything, alright?" he began. And then it was like ticking things off a list one by one, with each number feeling like a huge-ass rocket was being blasted off. "I'm... I'm sorry for getting you kicked out of Heaven, I'm sorry for having the angels treat you like a moving dart board, for getting you killed by one of you brothers..."

"Dean," Cas started.

"...I'm mean, who _does_ that to their own brother? Okay, sure, me and Sam don't get along that much these days either, and yeah I've threatened him a couple of times, but I'd never _kill_ the dude!" exclaimed Dean.

"Dean," Cas tried again.

"Anyway, I'm sorry for making you go in that warehouse on your own, and oh yeah, I'm real sorry 'bout banishing you back at Bobby's panic room, and for practically getting you killed when you sent us back to the seventies - damn it, Cas, you should've _told_ us the details of what would happen if you turned back the clock a couple of decades!"

"Dean,"

"Although I'm not sorry for bringing you to that brothel months ago, 'cuz you haven't really walked the planet if you haven't been laid, and if we weren't sort of beating a deadline here, we are so stopping at the next one we see. And I guess I'm not _that_ sorry for calling you a dick sometimes, 'cuz you really are one on occasion. And hey, didn't you mention that I just left you waiting by the side of the road for hours that time you first used your phone? Yeah, sorry about that, and - "

"Dean!"

Dean snapped his head up from where he had apparently been staring at the ground this whole time and turned to look at Cas. "What? In case you haven't noticed, I'm kinda in the middle of pouring my guts open here like someone in a screwed up chick-flick and the least you could do is listen." he said.

The haziness in Cas' eyes appeared to have gone completely. "Dean, I've already forgiven you for all those things, and more." he calmly said.

Dean was just about to implode with all the stuff messing with his head. It was a relief, really; but could not Cas have stopped him rambling like an idiot a little sooner?

"Good to hear." Dean remarked tiredly.

With a huge burden finally lifted off his shoulders, he leisurely made his way to the side of the Impala's trunk and leaned against it, arms crossed. After a few seconds had passed he turned to Cas again.

"Seriously though? You forgive me, just like that?" he asked dubiously.

Cas took another sip from his hot chocolate before responding. "You sound as if forgiveness is impossible."

"Well, after all the crap I put you through, I didn't think you'd do it so... so freaking easily!" Dean said, throwing his hands up.

"Forgiveness is never an easy task, but if the person who has done you wrong is truly worth the sacrifices, then it should be given." stated Cas.

Dean said nothing for a while. "Is that you talking or your angel code of honor you guys memorize in school?" he asked lightheartedly.

A split-second later he remembered that the person next to him had been stripped off of the title 'angel'. Dean quickly whipped his head to the side and saw that Cas was staring into his hot chocolate again, wearing an expression akin to a kicked puppy in the rain.

"Aw, crap, sorry; I didn't mean it like that." Dean said hurriedly.

Cas raised the cup to his face but did not drink from it this time. "It's alright; I've accepted my humanity." he said, and there was undeniably a hint of sadness there.

"We'll get this fixed, alright? I dunno how, but we'll get you a new pair of wings strapped on." Dean promised.

Dean could see Cas' hold on the cup tighten. "I appreciate your concern, but accomplishing that feat is next to impossible." he said.

"Yeah well, Team Free Will defied the odds before, didn't it?" Dean replied.

Cas smirked a little at that, albeit if it was born from thankfulness or contempt, Dean had absolutely no clue.

They stayed there for a while, enjoying the rare moment of silence. Sam should be back any time soon.

"So, uhh... what gave you the idea of going for half a week without getting any shut-eye, honestly?" Dean eventually asked.

Cas hesitated for a second. "We needed to get a sufficient amount of demon's blood as soon as we can. I got to work trying to drain two to three demons every night while you, Sam and Bobby rested." he said.

Dean felt his jaw threatening to unhinge itself from his head. That explained why they ended up with so much jugs in the trunk, that also explained why Cas had pretty much passed out in the car.

"Cas, that's... that's a hell of a lot of work in one night." he remarked. "Look, I know we can't stop and smell the roses anymore but our end-of-the-world schedule isn't that tight! To do that amount of work, you had to have had done it in overdrive!"

"More or less." Cas muttered.

"You're not used to doing things in overdrive without your mojo backing you up! And you just got out of the hospital!" Dean virtually yelled.

"I didn't want you to think that I was useless now that I'm powerless." replied Cas.

There was a heavy silence that came over them before Dean could figure out what to say next. "Is that what you think? That without your shiny halo floating around we'd just throw you to the streets?" he demanded. When Cas did not answer, Dean just slumped further into the Impala. "Angeled up or not, you're part of this screwball family, and if we have to fight for anything, it's that! You're not useless, got that?"

Cas was staring up at him wide eyes, and Dean could see everything in those blue orbs: confusion, humility, disbelief, innocence, hurt, joy... hope.

Dean sighed. He looked around to see if Sam would be coming any minute now, and when he saw that they were still very much alone in the gas station, he asked, "You want a hug?"

Before Cas could even reply, Dean got him in the same tight embrace he would give to his brother when they had barely made it out of a hunt alive, or one that he would give to Bobby when the world had just been too cold and they had nowhere else to go. Cas just sat there, dumbstruck.

"Give me a heads-up when you're gonna start bawling all over my shoulder, by the way." Dean joked.

"I'm not going to weep." said Cas, voice flat as ever.

"Right, that's what they all say."

Dean could feel the warmth of Cas' fever on the side of his face. When he pulled back, he straightened up and began walking over to the trunk. "You want some meds for that fever of yours? I think we still got a few."

Cas shook his head. "Thank you, but no. I can tolerate this much better than the last time." he replied.

Upon hearing those last words, Dean retraced his steps and faced Cas again. "When exactly was this 'last time' you keep on hinting all night?" he asked warily.

"It's not important to the matter at hand." said Cas.

"Well, it is to me; now talk." Dean demanded.

For a minute, Cas looked like he was merely going to zip his mouth on the subject. Dean was more than willing to pry the information out of him; in fact, he was on the verge of doing that when Cas spoke up at last.

"I initially suffered from it at the hospital." he admitted a bit unwillingly.

Another reason why Dean had to mentally kick his own ass. "That hospital's gotta have some of the crappiest doctors out there if they actually made you worse." he irately commented.

"Technically speaking, the doctors hardly took care of me." said Cas.

"You're telling me that they just left you there for dead without even checking up on you? What kind of sick sons of bitches are running around - ?" Dean fumingly began.

"Dean, they didn't help me because someone else did." interrupted Cas.

It took Dean a while for the words to make sense to him. "Well? You gonna tell me 'bout your special someone or what?"

Cas' steady gaze flickered until he broke eye contact. He was staring into his hot chocolate again, but this time there was something in his expression that got Dean's instincts firing.

Finally, Cas lifted his head. "It's Gabriel."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_Giving chocolate to others is an intimate form of communication, a sharing of deep, dark secrets._

_~Milton Zelman_

* * *

Dean could not help but feel like there was something seriously off about this picture. "Gabriel? The guy who threw you around walls and sent you to God knows where to get beat up, _that Gabriel_?" he exclaimed.

"Yes." replied Cas.

Dean paused at how indifferently Cas was reacting to this. "Gabriel, Cas; really? He was around when you were in the hospital, like the whole freaking time?" he wildly asked.

"Not the entire time." Cas stated.

Running his hands through his hair, Dean was on the brink of ripping his brain out at how Cas was taking it nice and slow on the elaboration. "What the hell, Cas? That's not the kind of thing you just leave out and bury under the rug! What did he to you, slapped duct tape on you again? Fiddled around with your life support?"

Cas' expression darkened as he straightened himself from where he was slumped against the upholstery. "As I have told you, Gabriel helped me, and he helped me considerably, might I add." he said.

Dean would have doubted him if he and Sam had not experienced Gabriel turning a new leaf themselves. Still, if Gabriel had really been with Cas, how come he did not bother mentioning that to them before he had to face off Lucifer? A second later, Dean could already imagine Gabriel's smart-ass response being, "You didn't ask."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he turned to Cas again, who was taking another couple of sips from his cup. "If he helped so much, why couldn't he have given you your mojo back, or at least some of it?" Dean inquired.

Cas downed the last of his hot chocolate. "Like I said, restoring the lost amount of my Grace is next to impossible, even for an archangel." he said.

"So, basically, what you're saying is that Gabe's equivalent of help is jack squat," groused Dean.

This time, Cas found the strength to haul himself to his feet and meet Dean's eyes with an intense, smite-ready glare. "He kept me from dying; or worse, going back to Heaven. He stood by me and pulled me through when there was no one else around I can rely on. I owe him my life and you have no right to judge him like that." he growled.

Dean blinked, caught off-guard at Cas' outburst. For a second, he was relieved to see that the intimidating angel-of-the-Lord spark was still alive and kicking under all that wrinkled get-up. He would not admit it, of course, but this was a good thing, a driving force to make Cas keep fighting. Whatever Gabriel had done to Cas to get him like this, he must have done _something_ right, not to mention big. Underneath all those tough words, Dean had detected a tone he knew by heart, which was the tone a little brother would use to defend the big brother he considered as his hero when the world was mucking up said big brother's image.

In that moment, Dean saw a bit of Sam in Cas, and he just had to release a chuckle... which had absolutely nothing to do with getting a mental picture of Gabriel denying that he just gave Cas a wedgie, or another picture of Cas being ' really difficult' while Gabriel did some baby-sitting duty.

"What's so funny?" Cas snapped, and oh yeah, he was still kind of pissed.

"You are, clearly." Dean said playfully. "Sounds like you've finally met a brother who isn't a total dick to you. Congrats. You two had some fun quality time together?"

At the sudden change of Dean's attitude, Cas' irate expression vanished and now he was at a lost at how he should handle this.

Dean leaned back against the Impala, relaxing. "I've always wondered just _what_ you guys do for fun, up there," he said.

"Angels are warriors of God, created to fight and serve as His word commands. 'Fun' is never an option." Cas deadpanned.

"Well, that sucks. All work and no play will get a stick shoved up your ass for life." Dean remarked. "Seriously, though? You guys have all eternity and the mother of all playgrounds to call your own and... that's all there is?"

"Essentially, yes." said Cas.

Dean noted that the now empty cup had fallen to the ground when Cas got up. "Gabriel's an angel, and _he_ has fun." he said.

"Gabriel had his connection from Heaven severed in order to pursue his own path." Cas said.

"Kinda reminds you of a certain someone, doesn't it?" snickered Dean.

Cas threw him a flustered, bewildered look before he pointed his gaze to the cup by his feet. "We're not the same." he murmured.

"I'm not so sure about that." said Dean. "For starters, both of you have managed to annoy me and Sam more times than I can count. You both... pop in when we least expect it, and it's hardly ever on the best of circumstances; then there's the level of stubbornness that's so huge you gotta throw a damn bulldozer at it to make it budge an inch - "

"Am I to believe that this is meant to encourage me?" Cas asked.

"Hold your horses, cowboy, I'm not done yet." Dean pushed himself off the side of the Impala. "As messed up as you two are, you were the only birdbrains who ever really helped us. You both ditched your family just to donate to the Help Save The Earth box even though it came back to bite you guys where the sun don't shine. It's..." Dean cut his words off and smiled bitterly. "Thanks, just thanks."

It seemed as if Cas was taking a while to register everything and make the connections. "Gabriel... helped you and Sam?" he asked in awe, sounding a hell of a lot younger.

Dean gulped, hoping that he would not have to go into details later on. "Yeah, he did. Saved our asses big time at the last minute." he replied.

"What happened?" Cas queried.

Already, Dean could feel his heart beating faster. He kept his fingers crossed that Cas would not ask one question in particular. "We had a bit of a bump-in with Lucifer, but the whole thing was taken care of." he said.

"Lucifer," Cas repeated absentmindedly, like saying the name aloud would help him make sense of it all. After a few seconds, he was facing Dean again. "Is Gabriel alright?" he asked.

And there was it, the bullet Dean had been striving to dodge. Cas just finally got a decent brother and now that was about to come crashing down on him? Dean imagined himself in Cas' shoes, and if someone were to tell him this news - this _truth_ \- he knew he would be devastated by it; Cas had enough things on his list of disappointments - hell, disappointment would not even cover what happened to Gabriel, not in the slightest. Dean was aware that he could always lie, give Cas some good news for once since the Apocalypse kicked itself off; he could tell him that Gabriel had holed up again in a secluded location so Lucifer would not come back for him.

However, there was no pushing aside the fact that Cas had the right to know; Gabriel was his brother after all. The same pretty much went for Gabriel's side, since the least he could do for the guy was not to disregard what he had done. He wished there was another way to this, but if there was, he would have taken it by now and saved his friend the grief. Cas did not deserve this much crap in his life.

"What's wrong?" Cas asked, noting his hesitance.

Dean clenched his hands into fists and tried to be as sympathetic as he could. "Cas, I'm sorry." he began slowly. "Gabriel's dead."

And just like that, the smooth ride morphed into a train wreck.

If Dean previously thought that there was not a sight as painful as looking at his brother, knowing that he was about to give himself up to the devil, seeing an angel's last strand of hope get hacked off made him reconsider.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

_Sitting here remembering me_

_Always been a shoe made for the city_

_Go ahead accuse me of just singing about places_

_With scrappy boys' faces have general run of the town_

_._

_Playing with prodigal sons_

_Take a lot of sentimental valiums_

_Can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy_

_While running on empty you little old doll with a frown_

_._

_Cigarettes & Chocolate Milk - Rufus Wainwright_

* * *

Gabriel was dead.

Gabriel. Was. _Dead_.

The news was comparable to hurtling down from the stratosphere.

Castiel should have known that no one can directly take on Lucifer and survive the experience, save maybe for Michael but that was beyond the point. The point was that Gabriel had died for a good cause - to save the Winchesters - and that he had taken his place on the side of humanity in the end. His brother had cared, he had understood, had shed off his disguise once and for all and, for a moment, Heaven's highest Messenger had returned to tell Lucifer off -

" _...if you're watching this, I'm dead."_

Dean had given him the DVD and the laptop to watch it with some time ago, before telling him that he would grant him privacy for a bit while he looked for Sam _;_ Castiel appreciated the gesture _,_ he did, but now he found himself wishing more and more to have someone accompany him. Gabriel's absence was more pronounced now that he was sitting in the Impala by himself, and suddenly the night felt so much colder than a few minutes ago.

He had been watching the DVD for quite a while now, enough times that he had lost count. Castiel watched the video all the way until the pictures faded to black, which he surmised was the end, and every time the video concluded he would push the button that would make it play again.

And again. And again. And again...

He was still rather uncomfortable viewing... the sins of the flesh, especially if he had to see them take place over and over. But he pushed aside that anxiety just for the sake of his brother, and Castiel felt so pathetic, so helpless... so scared.

_"...I was afraid to stand up to my brother, but not anymore."_

It was not fair. Out of all their siblings who were still in the fight, Lucifer just had to kill the one who had shown Castiel that good things could still happen even in the very midst of the worst of circumstances. Ever since his resurrection, he had to force himself to become callous when he had to kill other angels, right to the extent that he had nearly forgotten that they had been a family once upon a time.

As he recalled the past months, whenever he was not with the Winchesters, he was either alone or killing his brothers and sisters, siblings who glared at him like an abomination and wished his wings were ripped out. Some of them had been his mentors in Heaven, good friends, sparring partners, someone to go to when he wanted to have a conversation or a question answered. Back then, they had been a family full of love and happiness, now look at where they presently were.

But with Gabriel's case, things went out differently. Gabriel reminded him of what real family felt like, and it had been nice to be in the presence of another angel without the urgent need to draw his blade arising. They had not really been close in Heaven, but after everything Castiel could convince himself otherwise.

The video ended. He played it again.

Castiel wanted to mourn, to hit something repeatedly, but he could not bring his body to function, save for the finger that was resting on the button, ready to play the video once more. He was not even paying attention to the words anymore. He had been wanting to hit the button labeled Stop for a while already; every time he played the video, the hollow, void-like feeling in his chest got deeper, but the sensation felt right, in a way.

Castiel spared a glance at the empty cup that used to bear his hot chocolate, lying on its side on the ground. It was nothing more than an empty husk toppled to the shadows now; it was almost hard to believe that something so dull and lifeless had previously possessed a substance of such warmth and sweetness. A gust of wind was picking up and soon the cup will be blown away and gone.

Sighing (which was just a gesture all-too-human), Castiel tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

"Castiel? You're there, aren't you?"

Castiel suddenly bolted up at the familiar voice. That sounded an awful lot like Gabriel. Castiel looked around the interior of the Impala and saw that he was alone; he extended his search to the expanse of the gas station yet found no one in sight. Gabriel was not here, and if - by some completely impossible miracle - he was, Castiel would have been able to sense him, even a tiny bit, despite the fact that what remained of his Grace was merely the size of a breadcrumb.

Maybe he was imagining things; after all, it had been days since he had last gotten a decent amount of sleep. Castiel was about to close the laptop when he noticed something odd about the video. The video seemed to have 'frozen', and while Castiel would not be surprised if he had broken it after playing the video for too many times, he had watched the video enough to know every detail of it. The current scene on the monitor was, by far, _not_ part of the video he had been watching.

The scene was that of Gabriel, simply staring off frontward. If Castiel did not know any better, he would say that Gabriel was staring... straight at him.

As if to confirm his thoughts, his brother - or at least the recorded image of him - winked and sent Castiel a playful little wave.

"Surprise, surprise, little bro! What, did you really expect that I'd be out of your hair without a very colorful parting side-note?"

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

" _I saw two clouds at morning_  


_Tinged by the rising sun,_

_And in the dawn they floated on_

_And mingled into one"_

_~John Gardiner Calkins Brainard_

* * *

"Oh, how I wish to see the look on your face right now. I bet it's priceless!"

Castiel stared at the screen with wide eyes, his spine inching further into the leather of the upholstery as if he could eventually fall back onto reality. Had he fallen asleep again? Was he dreaming at the moment? Surely Gabriel would not have gone through all the trouble just to squeeze in a message for _him_? This was meant to be a huge revelation about a chance at beating Lucifer, not... a casual and friendly voice mail of sorts for a brother. This was, for lack of a better word, surreal.

"See, I _know_ it's you 'cuz I put in a little code to this thing. The code's actually really simple: hit the replay button enough times and this special feature is activated, kinda like slamming a sledgehammer into a wall enough times until you can get into another room." Gabriel went on. "I had full - okay, not full; more like eighty-two percent. I was eighty-two percent confident that you'd be able to crack this bad-boy 'cuz - come on! - I doubt your two pals have the time to keep going at this for this long. You, sadly, have enough patience to sit on one spot and wait until an entire freaking mountain erodes! Hey, good thing I didn't make the code that long, huh?"

Castiel looked around the gas station to see if Dean had found Sam yet, or if the two of them were currently making their way back to the Impala. His search came up empty.

"I guess no matter what the scale, family reunions for us always sucks. Go figure." Gabriel shrugged in the tiny space available on the video. "Wish I could go 'Hey, how's my little bro doing? Are you eating your veggies and wearing clean underwear?' but, obviously..." Gabriel trailed off and his jovial expression slowly melted away. "...obviously, if you're watching this, you're sure as hell better off than I am." he said.

Castiel looked down at his self. Yes, he was alive, but was he truly more fortunate than Gabriel? At least Gabriel did not have to fight or hide anymore.

Gabriel returned his gaze back to him and his carefree attitude was back. "Hey, lighten up! Things could be worse. For instance, you could be stuck in the Sahara right now with only a chimpanzee for company. Or you could have made some magical psycho chick pregnant who seriously got a ball and chain strapped on you so you'd have to live with her and the kid forever. Or you could be neck-deep in a pile of turtles right now..."

"Where would that many turtles come from?" Castiel found himself asking. A second later, he remembered that Gabriel was not really here and that he had just talked to a laptop.

"Look, I just want you to know that I hope you're doing okay." said Gabriel eventually.

Tilting his head, Castiel was slightly thankful that Gabriel was not actually here so he did not have to think of a way of how to react to that. Nevertheless, he sat up straighter in interest and pulled the laptop closer to him.

"I know, I know; I've been a crappy older brother lately. What else is new?" said Gabriel, sitting on the suddenly made bed that was not even behind him a couple of seconds ago. "Luci's crappier though, and something tells me that you're gonna be dealing with that drama queen some time _real_ soon. By the way, word of advice: keep your distance from him, comprende?"

In spite of the situation, Castiel nodded anyway, not entirely certain what Gabriel meant with that.

Gabriel loosened his posture somewhat. "Anyway, I just wanted to say... good luck, alright? I'm rooting for your sorry-ass team - front row seat and a line of cheerleaders all the way!" he exclaimed.

As well-intended as the words were, Castiel hardly considered them that encouraging. Circumstances were not really in their favor, and the probability of their plan pushing through was about as low as their desperation. He sincerely did not know what to do anymore. With the demon blood collected, he failed to see how he could still contribute to the battle ahead. He could handle a shotgun but what use was that to Lucifer's forces?

_Team Free Will defied the odds before, didn't it?_

Dean's words echoed in his mind, and Castiel found himself wishing again that he was not alone in the Impala.

In the video Gabriel huffed out a laugh. "Honestly, bro? I'm not even sure why I've made this for you." he admitted. "You're probably so stressed out at the minute that you're close to running down the road to scream your trachea off, and I've seen that happen to one guy in the seventeenth century. Just keep yourself together, alright? And no screaming off any vital organs."

Castiel felt his brow crinkle at such a ludicrous statement.

His brother forced out a smile, appearing like it hurt him to carry it out. "We've had some fun times, and then some. You were the only family I ever got to spend time with these last few months - well, except for Lucifer, but you get the idea. Thanks for the bonding session; it reminded me of how much I missed messing around my younger sibs."

Outside, a strong wind picked up and got a start out of Castiel. A second or so later, it started to drizzle. As he watched the first droplets slide down the window to his side, he slowly recalled a piece of information that had been imparted to him when he was still deemed 'too young' to leave the gates of Heaven: each of the Archangels had been assigned with their own specific element to rule, and Gabriel's element just so happened to be water. Castiel wondered if this drizzle was a sign that Gabriel was keeping an eye on him. Thinking back, had it not also rained a couple of hours ago?

Curious, Castiel peered out the window; however, no matter how hard he searched, he could not pinpoint any angelic essence or even a shape in the curtain of steady rain.

"You want to know a secret, Cas? One that only The Big Four know about?" Gabriel asked, leaning closer to the screen and dropping the volume of his voice. "When angels die, they don't disappear into thin air. Humans have their souls ride the elevator to Heaven, right? We have souls too... sort of, although instead of a straight trip up, we have the choice to wander around a bit." he said.

It did not come as a surprise to Castiel that he found that a little difficult to accept. He had died some time ago and he could not remember 'wandering around'. Actually, his time as being dead had been nothing but a blank.

"Before you go pulling a face at me, I have two theories for your case," said Gabriel, as if he had expected his thoughts. "One: I know Dad brought you back, so He could've pulled some strings and hit a few buttons so you wouldn't remember anything. And two: you could be just too young to even get into the swing of it - death is some heavy-duty stuff so don't blame yourself for not getting your head wrapped around it fast enough. Maybe when you're a tad older, you'd be able to make sense of things quicker." Gabriel stated with a hint of teasing.

Castiel felt the urge to pout but restrained himself since that would simply prove his brother's point.

"Going back to dead angels in general... You could say that we're like ghosts that can go in and out of Earth and Heaven, and even Hell if you feel like it. Though, we'd be the kind of ghosts that... let's just say that our capabilities are seriously diminished, but we can still make our presence known no matter what plane of reality we end up in." Gabriel explained.

"Like you and the rain." thought Castiel.

"It won't be on a twenty-four hour basis, but I'll always be around. Who else is gonna point and laugh at you when you get into something hilariously stupid?" Gabriel snickered. "But seriously, don't take that info lightly. There's a reason why only archangels were in on the slice." he added humorlessly.

"So why inform me of it?" Castiel asked, and again he had been too absorbed by the message to regard the rationality of the predicament.

Just like with the last time, it was like Gabriel was actually here reading his thoughts. "Wanna know why I told this to you? Don't puff up your ego just yet, big boy, but you got some real potential working for you - _archangel_ potential. Can't say a promotion like that has ever happened in existence before, but _everything's_ pretty much happening these days, so who knows how high or low you'll wind up, bro." he said.

Archangel potential? What did he mean by that?

Before Castiel could speculate further, a short burst of static went through the video and he almost dropped the laptop in surprise.

"Sorry, that's my alarm system." Gabriel informed when the static cleared. "It means one or both of the Winchesters are in the area. Our private time has to be cut short."

Right on cue, the door on Castiel's left side swung open to reveal Dean. "Hey, Cas. Uh, sorry for the wait. You have no clue how far me and Sam ended up." he said, and it was clear that they had a good walk judging by the small yet genuine smile on Dean's face. "Sammy just went to the bathroom. When he's clear, we can - " He trailed off when he noted the scene on the video. "What the hell? I've never seen this part before." he remarked.

Castiel noticed an almost undetectable wave of static go through the video.

"Dean!" Gabriel excliamed, loud enough to make Dean jump a bit. "I was just emptying my mailbox by passing a couple of bro-to-bro advice to Cas over here. Ain't that right?"

Dean looked at Castiel incerdelously. "Is Gabriel...?"

"No, this is merely a recorded message." said Castiel.

"I trust that all your limbs are intact? No recent, embarassing beat-downs from little girls?" Gabriel teased.

Dean let out an exasperated sigh coupled with an eyeroll, albeit he did not bother making a fuss about it. For some reason, Castiel found it funny and bit down the urge to laugh.

"Anyway, this won't take long. I've already unloaded nearly everything I have to, and this last bit is for you." said Gabriel. He went closer to the screen and his expression suddenly became serious. "Take care of my little brother, alright? You got your Sam, I got him. Don't you dare mess him up again."

As if to add a more dramatic effect, lightning struck and a loud thunder filled the skies.

Castiel spared a glance at Dean and was met with him in a slightly paler complexion.

As quick as it had come, Gabriel reverted to wearing his customary blithe expression. "You and your motley crew play nice now. By the time you get to this part, I'm already closer than you think."

With a grin, Gabriel snapped his fingers and the video went black.

A second passed before the silence, as well as the rain, was broken. "Well, I've had my share of surprises for the night," Dean said, making his way to the driver's door.

Castiel watched as things slowly got back onto the path they were supposed to be on. Soon enough, they were on the move again. When the Impala had to round a turn in the road, Castiel felt something roll into his thigh. Looking down, he saw that it was a bottle with some liquid inside and a tag attached to its neck. Inquisitive, he picked up the bottle and read what was on the tag:

_'A bottle of holy oil - perfect for giving your dick older brothers their just desserts. Use it wisely, young jedi. High-fives from Gabriel ;D'_

Castiel tried to scan the area one last time, but as with his previous attempts, saw not a single trace of Gabriel.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

_Get into the habit of looking for the silver lining of the cloud, and, when you have found it, continue to look at it, rather than at the leaden gray in the middle. It will help you over many hard places._

_~ A. A. Willitts_

* * *

Eight months after everything, Dean found himself telling Lisa that he would just be out for a walk, and for once the words were not a lie. It was nothing really; it was just one of those times when the need to clear the old melon without the sight of walls popped up. Plus there was also the desire to grab a hot dog if he could get the chance, and he was by no means getting out of the house just because Lisa thought that he and Ben had been packing a lot of junk food lately, and thus had aforementioned junk food thrown out to the raccoons and completely replaced with organic lumps of whatever that did not even look or taste like food.

Just three more weeks until they were all gone, just three more weeks - _two_ weeks if he and Ben could get the raccoons to come back, although it seemed like the little critters were not exactly regarding the 'health food' with envy and longing either.

Damn raccoons had it lucky.

Turning a street corner, Dean hoped to catch the guy who pushed the hot dog stand all the way over here (in a secluded part of town where Lisa can't immediately spot) usually at this time of the day. Unfortunately, it was as if the world was siding with Lisa for the moment since the hot dog guy was nowhere to be seen. Typical.

Nonetheless, it was a good day to be outside. The sky was clear, the trees were giving off that nature-y scent and there was hardly anyone else around. He looked around and it did not take long for him to find a bench to settle on for a couple of minutes. Dean eased himself onto the wooden seat and just watched the world go slowly by.

Sometimes, he still could not believe that, less than a year ago, this sort of tranquility was nonexistent, and that instead there had been every possible thing blowing up everywhere and anything that could move on its own mauling whatever wandered into its sight. At least he got to relax; well, more so than last year anyway, and the decrease of instances that involved him running for his life was welcome. Regardless, Dean hardly counted this as an improvement.

He idly turned his head to the side and chanced upon seeing a spot of brown partly hidden amidst the grass. Dean leaned a little closer until his thigh was pressing against the rail of the bench, and from there he could make out that the smudge of rich brown on the ground was, in fact, a tiny pool of chocolate, one that was recently-made from the look of it. The ice cream truck must have gone through here (damn it, he just missed it!) and a kid probably had spilled some of their melted ice cream onto the soil.

Despite it all, Dean felt himself making a smirk that bordered on sentimental. It was beyond weird that something as normal as spilled chocolate reminded him of his life as a hunter: the crappy makeshift food, a lure to get someone's kid out of hiding so a ghost could be ganked without innocent people getting caught in the crossfire, the trail of ants that would rudely wake him up... But the freshest, most prominent memory had to be that of a certain annoying, winged-little bastard who had brought them more trouble than benefits.

Dean had the slight urge to know where the dude was now, not that he was concerned or anything; it was just for curiosity's sake. The guy had given up pretty much everything he had and Dean at least hoped that, with the Apocalypse finally out of the picture, there was nothing else for him to do Up There but chill out, assuming that there was nowhere else for him to go after what had happened. Dean wondered how his dick-siblings would react to his return, a brother who had sacrificed so much for the side of humanity, the side which Dean knew a lot of the angels were not exactly rooting for. Still, his status should help smooth things out right?

Letting out a sigh, Dean got to his feet and wondered how the sight of chocolate suddenly became a reminder of Cas.

O_X

To say that Castiel was stressed would be the understatement of the millennium.

He was exhausted; everyday he was being pushed to his limits and he did not know how much longer he can keep this up. He was not an archangel, he had not been born with the strength to bear the weight of Heaven, nor the attitude to get all of his brothers and sisters under his command. He was just a child stepping into a pair of grown-up shoes and taking up a job he barely knew the gist of.

Some of his siblings had welcomed and applauded him for returning and bearing this responsibility, and for that he was extremely grateful. They supported his cause up until now, and frankly, he needed all the help he can get. However, there were still others who looked at him with shame and doubt; they were the ones who were virtually strangers to him now and vice versa, they were also the ones who did everything in their power to throw him off the pedestal he did not want.

In spite of all the help he had received, Castiel still felt like not much was being done, and that he was the one doing most - if not all - of the work. He wanted to take a break. Those who were loyal to him were always there to assist him should he ask, but not one had ever asked him if he desired to rest, if he was getting far too tired from doing something.

Sometimes, he felt like he was still on his own.

For the moment, he could say that there was a chance for him to rest here and he was going to treasure every nanosecond of it. All of a sudden, he perceived a shift in the atmosphere, as noticeable as a succession of ripples on a still surface of water. Just like that, he knew that another angel was within the area.

Castiel searched the parameters but neither saw nor sensed any of his siblings. That was odd; he could have sworn someone was here, and with all that was going on, he doubted that anyone would dawdle or play games or -

No. It could not be... could it?

And there, way out in the distance, he saw it. Castiel could make out the pinprick of a tiny object beyond him and his overly-sharpened instincts of caution flared at him. What could that thing be? What if this was a trap? What if some of Raphael's henchmen were behind this?

Whatever may happen, Castiel knew that if he had to do anything about this, it was to go forward and deal with it.

In an instant, he was right beside it, and 'it' turned out to be harmless, or more like a grateful relief. It was a steaming mug of hot chocolate, topped off with cream, marshmallows and a dusting of cinnamon. He noticed a little note dangling from the handle that was fluttering in a non-existent breeze, almost like it had a life of its own and just begging for him to acknowledge it. Castiel did so and read what was written on it:

' _Take the load off, bro.'_

Under that, in a smaller font, were the words,

 _'PS: Unlike_ some _people, I actually make sure that there_ are _marshmallows.'_

Castiel could not help but give a tiny laugh at that. As the message sank into him, and as he gladly drank from the mug even though it was not necessary for his form, he was immensely thankful that there was, at last, one brother who was with him wholly. Over the past year, angels had sided with him against Raphael, had fought and acted under his leadership and guidance and had loyally died because of his commands. But this small act from someone he had spent far too little time with had been the greatest reward he received ever since being restored by God.

Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived. Castiel could hear Dean calling for him again, this time it was about Sam and Dean actually sounded a little more desperate. Castiel really did not want to leave right now, but he could not afford to not do anything, so it was either help Dean or return to his duties in Heaven.

Sighing, he made a beeline toward Dean's location, leaving behind a half-empty mug of hot chocolate.

O_x

Sam had not moved in the slightest after several hours of being tied to that chair, so it was no surprise that he was still out cold when Dean heard the whoosh of wings behind him. He let out a sigh of extreme relief that Cas actually _showed up_. Dean turned around, about to tell Cas everything that happened - from their run-in with a group of vamps to the point he had to beat the living crap out of his brother - when he saw how the angel looked. It was not that Cas was bloody or anything, but the reaction Dean made at the sight before him came kind of close to how he would respond if Cas _was_ in a serious condition.

"Cas, you got... Is that chocolate and cream all over your mouth?" Dean asked.

Needless to say that Cas' surprised expression was priceless. He wiped the stuff off him and, just like that, he was all business again just as Sam was starting to come to.

"You did this to him?" he inquired, approaching Sam.

Fin


End file.
